What You Don't Remember
by Siobhhh
Summary: Severus Snape survives Nagini's attack, only to be plunged back into a world that no longer has a place for him. A stranger gives him shelter, but everything comes at a price. Post-war AU, continuing the events of the books. Warning for violence and mentions of drug abuse.
1. Chapter 1

He hadn't seen him before, Severus thought as he watched the man with dazed, half-lidded eyes. A new recruit, then. It didn't make much of a difference. The new ones were just as cruel, if not more so than the older Death Eaters—so eager to please. He set his gaze on a spot on the floor, waiting. Not looking them in the eyes was the only form of rebellion Severus could allow himself. With his wrists pinned above his head on the brick wall behind him, strained muscles shooting painful arrows down his arms and back, he could hardly defend himself, even if he wanted to. And he didn't. Any attempt at protecting himself, no matter how feeble, inevitably attracted stronger blows and curses.

Severus caught a glimpse of the stranger's boots. The man had stopped. Hesitating? Couldn't be. He bowed his head so low that his chin almost touched his chest. It was about to start, any moment now.

He was right, the man started advancing again. He was eerily quiet—no threats or insults for the prisoner in front of him. It unnerved Severus, who almost looked up. Any moment now, a boot would be sinking into his stomach—or, perhaps, his head would be knocked back. Any moment—

The stranger's hands were on the shackles around his wrist.

"Severus?"

He frowned. They never called him by name. Most times it was 'traitor'. He could feel the stranger lean in closer, examining his binds. The voice sounded familiar, but Severus couldn't place it.

With a click, the shackles came undone and Severus found himself sliding in a sitting position on the floor, arms still raised awkwardly over his head. They were so numb that they no longer felt like parts of his body.

The man took hold of Severus' left arm and Severus closed his eyes, bracing himself.

"Slowly, now…"

A quiet whimper of surprise escaped him when he realised that his arm was being eased down, hand left to rest in his lap. A few seconds later, his right arm followed. They both tingled like they were covered in ants.

The stranger knelt by him and, as Severus saw out of the corner of his eye, produced a small, bluish vial from a pocket of his robes.

"Will you, please…?" the man murmured, bringing the vial to his lips and tipping it slightly. "It'll help you sleep."

Severus chugged it down without hesitation. He didn't know what the stranger's plans were for him, but if could choose to be unconscious, then he didn't really care. Sleeping draught, he realised, as his eyes closed: Flobberworm mucus, Lavender, Valerian Sprigs and—

* * *

Severus woke up with a start. A furtive glance around the room confirmed that he was alone. Before sitting up, he took a minute to turn his ragged gasps into somewhat even breaths, fists curling and uncurling into the sheets.

While he slept, he had been moved into… a bedroom? It was small, but promised to be bright during daytime, going by the tall double windows that occupied the east wall almost entirely. The bed, a nightstand, a wardrobe and an armchair were the only pieces of furniture in the room.

With the bitter aftertaste of sleeping draught still lingering on his tongue, Severus stood up. Then, bracing himself against the wallpapered wall, he edged towards the door.

Surprisingly, it was unlocked. He wasn't considered a threat, Severus could only conclude as he surveyed the darkened hallway: two other doors, both closed, and a staircase. A soft snoring sound could be heard from one of the rooms, so he moved towards the stairs instead.

Huffing by the time he reached the last step, he found himself in the entry hall. Deciding against trying the front door—protective charms would surely be in place (probably even an intruder one, which would wake the owner quicker than Severus could say Flobberworm)—he headed for what seemed to be the living-room.

The house looked deceptively like a Muggle one, Severus noted, at least until one took a closer look at the book case: _A History of Modern Magic_ , _Evolution of Unspoken Spells during the 20_ _th_ _Century_ , _1000 Most Common Herbs and their Magical Properties_ and—

Without thinking, Severus reached for the brand-new copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ and, clutching it to his chest, limped to the sofa. A fluffy calico raised its head as he approached, its bright green eyes following him idly as he took a seat with the book in his lap.

The clock on the opposite wall read 6:45 am as Severus started reading. Two minutes in, he reached towards the coffee table for a pencil (he had found the first mistake). Five minutes in, the cat stood with a chirruping sound, only to press itself against his bony thigh, then curl up again. As soon as Severus' hand lowered to scratch it behind its ears, it started purring.

An hour and a half later, Severus was too engrossed in correcting the book to hear the shuffling noises on the first floor. His attention was finally diverted when he felt the cat, which he had been petting absent-mindedly, raise its head. He looked up, following its gaze, to find the stranger from the previous night standing by the sofa and peering down at him. The little colour that was left drained from his face as he slowly closed _Advanced Potion-Making_ and deposited it, along with the pencil, on the coffee table.

The cat sprang up, rushing to the man to rub against his bare feet and ankles, meowing.

"Morning, Severus."

* * *

The man, who was at least 10 years Severus' junior, was looking at him with sleep clouded brown eyes. His dark red hair, which passed his shoulders by a few inches, was tousled and he was wearing a faded t-shirt and a pair of checkered pajama bottoms. Clearly, he had been the one sleeping upstairs.

"Pardon the stupid question, but are you feeling, uh, alright?" he murmured, picking up the meowing cat and cradling it somewhat awkwardly to his chest. "Food's coming in a second… Be quiet, Claw."

He looked as if he was expecting to be reprimanded for asking. Severus didn't understand why that was.

"Yes," came the cautious answer.

"Your shoulder must be a little stiff still, but it'll be back to normal in a day or two—I think," he stranger continued, stifling a yawn with his free hand. The cat was pushing its head under his chin. It had resumed purring. "Would you, uh, like some breakfast?"

Severus' hands were shaking slightly as he stood up and he threw a furtive glance at the book. Its owner didn't seem to have noticed what he had been doing. Sensing that it was expected of him to do so, he followed the man into the kitchen.

Humming, the stranger filled a bowl with cat food and put the kettle on, before noticing that Severus was standing motionless in the doorway.

"Won't you take a seat?"

He stepped towards the table and lowered himself into a chair, eyes on the stranger's hands. He didn't seem to be carrying a wand. Severus could already feel his heart pounding in his chest. Was this a game? A trick? Lull him into a false sense of security and then…? The short sleeves of the t-shirt didn't reveal a Dark Mark either. But if he was a new recruit or, indeed, a Snatcher…

"Black, two sugars," the stranger announced, placing a mug of coffee on the table in front of Severus, before walking off to retrieve a carton of milk from the refrigerator. He was soon facing Severus again, leaning against the kitchen counter and cradling his own, milky cup of coffee. "Problem?"

The coffee was exactly how he had been taking it for the past fifteen years (or longer), but Severus made no move towards the cup. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the man before him. He was aware that wandless and weakened as he was, he had little chance of dodging an attack even if he could see it coming, but he simply didn't know what else to do. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper when he spoke next.

"Who are you?"

It came out as a hoarse whisper, but the young man had definitely heard it judging by the way his jaw dropped. The question seemed to jolt him awake from the morning haze much more efficiently that coffee would and he set the untouched cup next to him on the counter.

"Oh. That's… unexpected."

Severus looked down, shaking hands grabbing his knees in a feeble attempt to still themselves.

"You don't remember me?"

Severus shook his head, not daring to look up again. His mind was racing trying to place him, but to no avail. The stranger had fallen silent, as well. Any second now, he would be punished for his answer. Severus found it unbelievable that he had lasted so many hours without the slightest correction. After what seemed to be ages, the stranger spoke again. He was straining to keep his voice even, Severus could tell.

"I'm—I mean, I was a friend of Dumbledore's. Do you remember him?"

Severus' shoulders twitched at the mention of Dumbledore, but he forced himself to nod. He could recall everything, including the wizard's death. Lie, this could be a lie. But why go through all the trouble? Severus finally glanced up, just to see the stranger extend an arm in his direction. He observed it warily as it hovered over the table and, finally, he tentatively reciprocated the gesture, all the while expecting the worst.

"David. That's, uh, my name," the man said, giving Severus' hand a gentle squeeze. The way he smiled was somewhat forced, but didn't seem entirely insincere. "I'm, uh, happy to see you again."

David took a sip of coffee, but before he could add anything else, a soft flapping noise caught his attention. He opened the window to allow a barn owl perch itself on the still and, after locating a coin on the kitchen counter (which was rather untidy, one could notice), retrieved his copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Claw eyed the transaction mistrustfully, giving a hiss as the owl soared into the morning sky.

"Now, now," David mumbled, picking the cat up with one hand and unfolding the newspaper on the table with the other. He took the seat next to Severus, shoulders hunched forwards as he began to read.

Severus, who had dared to wrap his hands around the mug, glanced at it only long enough to catch the headline: LAST DEATH EATHERS CAPTURED. Was that right? He was about to steal another look, when David spoke.

"Oh, last ones? That's good…" He looked up, meeting Severus' eyes, and smiled. "Look, the Ministry of Magic raided that place they kept you in. They say it was run by the last group of Voldemort's supporters—I'd really like to believe that, but… I mean, he's gone and everything, but fanatics may still appear. Not too difficult to deal with them, though, I don't think. Uh, would you like to…?"

David slid the newspaper towards Severus, but the latter made no move to pick it up. He was staring wide-eyed at the man.

"Gone?"

David nodded heartily.

"Yes, defeated for a second time by Harry Potter. You won. Your side won, Severus."

Severus, whose hands were shaking even worse than before, searched David's eyes for any trace of deception. When he couldn't find anything of the sorts, he focused on the article instead. It all seemed… genuine. He had spent the last three months (judging by the newspaper date) thinking they'd lost, convinced that Potter was dead and their efforts had been in vain. They were keeping him alive for the Dark Lord, they said. He would be the one deciding Severus' fate.

"I, uh, probably should have started with that, but… uh, I didn't realise… I thought you knew. I'm sorry."

Severus opened his mouth to say something, but found that the words had left him entirely. Shaking, he leaned forward, as if straining to read the article. The curtains of lank hair on each side of his face did a fairly good job concealing the tears that had soundlessly started running down his hooked nose and spilling onto the newspaper page.

Severus gave a start when he felt a hand rest on his back, but didn't pull away.

* * *

Severus had somehow been coaxed into eating two sandwiches and was back on the sofa with the copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ in his lap. At the opposite end sat David, his face hidden into the _Daily Prophet_. The cat had been let out to wander through the yard. He had almost drifted back into reading the book (an overstatement, as he knew the instructions by heart), when the man's voice brought him back to the present.

"Would you mind if I looked at your back for a bit?"

And before Severus could agree (he didn't dare decline), David was heading upstairs. Severus' eyes followed him as he left the room, but he remained seated, waiting. A sense of dread at what the stranger had in mind was slowly seeping in.

"Ah, there we go…"

Severus' heart skipped a beat when he saw David returning with his wand and a jar of what looked like purple jelly. He stood up on legs that felt as if they were stuffed with cotton.

"Can you please, uh, take of your shirt and turn around? Or turn around and then take off your shirt? Whichever order you prefer," he mumbled, placing the jar on the coffee table. "Thank you."

Severus stood with his bare back at the man, head hanging low and eyes squeezed shut. He gave a start when he felt hands on his back, but they were just brushing his hair out of the way.

"Nothing's reopened during the night; that's good."

It didn't sound as if an answer was expected from him, so he kept quiet and as still as possible. Goosebumps ran down his arms when he felt something cold and oily being spread on his back, covering new and old wounds alike. It smelled faintly of lavender.

"You were right, you know. Well, you probably don't remember this either, seeing as you don't remember me at all, but it was your idea to add Calendula and Lavender extract to the—what was its proper name? Anyway, to this healing goo, let's call it. Got rid of that foul smell, alright. I mean, it was working well enough before…" he trailed off, pushing the jar in Severus' hand.

He cracked open an eye to examine the recipient. It looked like generic healing ointment that one could procure from any Apothecary, but instead of being white and smelling strongly of petrol, it was a faint purple colour and the odour had been replaced by lavender. David was murmuring something under his breath and Severus felt the tip of the wand tap his back from place to place. Pleasant warmth was slowly spreading across his marred skin.

"Well, good news is," the young wizard began, taking hold of Severus' elbow and guiding him to turn around (sign that he had finished for the time being), "it should be fully healed in a day or two. Bad news is that it'll most likely scar. There are ways to get rid of it, though, should you ever feel inclined to do so."

Severus watched him guardedly as David cleaned the tip of his wand with the hem of his t-shirt. The man looked nowhere near as pale as himself, but the dark circles under his eyes were so obvious that Severus wondered how he had missed them the first time round. He looked as if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in months. The yawn that followed strengthened Severus' supposition and, half an hour later, when David had fallen asleep on the sofa with the _Daily Prophet_ spread in his lap, he considered it confirmed. The wand was laying beside him, forgotten.

With his eyes glued on the sleeping form, Severus reached for it and grabbed it in one swift move. He stood by the sofa for a few seconds, twirling it in his hands and marveling at how easy it had been to just take it. It had started raining and the room had grown significantly darker.

He would normally have headed for the entrance, but scratching accompanied by pleading meowing could be faintly heard from the direction of the kitchen. Fearing it might wake David, Severus hurried towards the source of the sound—the back door.

His hand hovered over the knob for a moment, hesitating. What about the intruder charms?

A moment later, he had made up his mind and pulled the door open. Frightened by the storm, the cat scurried between his ankles and made a beeline towards the table, hiding under it. Severus stepped onto the porch and then stopped, listening. Nobody was coming.

The backyard was wider than he had expected, lined by thick forest on one side and extending into a hill. He could see nothing but greenery wherever he looked. Hesitantly, he took the few steps separating him from the railing and leaned forward to rest against it, still twirling the wand in his hands as he watched the rain pour.

* * *

"There you were."

Severus turned at the sound of the voice, the wand aimed at its source. Incidentally, it was David's throat.

"Are you going to curse me?"

He was sipping from a can of energy drink, not looking bothered (or, indeed, frightened) in the least.

"Well?"

Severus seemed to consider it for a long minute, before finally lowering the wand and turning around to lean back on the railing.

"You don't keep the doors locked."

"Should I?"

David closed the distance between them, mirroring Severus' pose as he took his place next to the man. Their elbows were less than an inch apart.

"There are protective charms around the house, of course, but their main purpose is keeping dangerous things out—rather than people in."

"Can I leave?"

It sounded like an absolutely idiotic question to Severus, but it didn't seem to bother his host; nor, for that matter, did taking his wand. David seemed in no hurry to claim it back.

"Yes, but I hoped you'd stay a while longer. At least until you're all healed. Then I could say I've done my job properly." David smiled up at him and took another sip of the energy drink.

"You're sleep deprived."

"Well spotted."

"But you have access to sleeping draught?"

"I'm not an insomniac, just… been busy." David raised the can and gave it a little shake, as if it represented the concluding argument for his point.

"It's revolting."

"True, but it works. For the moment, anyway."

The rain showed no signs of letting up. David kept his eyes closed for a few seconds and then, with a shake of his head, opened them again.

"You really don't remember me at all?"

"No."

"They used the Cruciatus curse on you."

It didn't sound like a question, but Severus gave a faint nod nevertheless.

"It can cause memory loss, but… this is a bit too specific, isn't it? You do remember the past three years, don't you?"

Another nod followed. Severus was looking down at the wand. The only thing that was vaguely familiar about the young man beside him was his voice—and that didn't help him much. The mere fact that David knew more about him than the other way around made Severus uncomfortable. Still, if he had been one of the Death Eaters, as he initially thought, he would have been punished by now for theft and general disobedience. After three months in their company, Severus was certain of that.

"Come," David concluded, patting him on the back, as he turned towards the door. "I'm sure you can reschedule your escape attempt for better weather."

Severus was surprised to find his upper lip curl into a tiny smirk as he followed the young man inside.


	2. Chapter 2

"Would you at least try it?"

Severus and David were sat at the kitchen table, a large pizza between them. The former was glancing back and forth between the food and the young man, looking as if he would rather sample a slice of Nagini's tail than what was in front of him.

"I'm not hungry."

"Severus, please—you're three meals away from being a skeleton," David pleaded (not in the most tactful way, he would be the first to admit).

Too frustrated and tired to try and conceal the sentiment, the young wizard took a bite of pizza and then deliberately dropped a slice of pepperoni on the floor. Claw pounced at it immediately.

"Look, I'm eating it. The cat's eating it. I swear it's not been poisoned. I give you my word that we'll have something better tomorrow, but for tonight it's the best I can do." David's best in terms of nutrition had been to pick up the phone and order a large pizza. In all fairness, he was lucky to find someone who agreed to deliver it to the middle of nowhere.

But Severus still held his arms wrapped around himself, sitting as far back in his chair as it was physically possible without it toppling backwards. The wand was still clutched in his hand, but luckily he seemed too petrified to actually use it.

"Maybe later?" he offered weakly, glancing down at the cat with the sole purpose of avoiding the young wizard. Claw looked perfectly happy eating this sort of Muggle food. Dazedly, he wondered if there was any way they could switch places.

"But why…?"

David sighed, leaning forwards on his elbows and looking up at his guest. His expression must have truly been hopeless because Severus reached for a slice and took a pained bite, chewing slowly. He managed to get half-way through, before putting it down on the empty plate in front of him. When he spoke next, his voice sounded oddly calm.

"I can't eat anymore. I apologise, but I just can't."

David nodded and stood up. He placed a hand on Severus' shoulder, half-expecting to be brushed away. Severus looked up and, for a moment, David saw something like fear lighting his eyes. It was the same expression he had been greeted with that morning. Of course, at the time he had put it down to surprise—shock even.

"I really don't know why."

It had been just a whisper, but he nodded in understanding. It was Severus' first day out. Pushing him would not be getting either of them very far.

"Come on, let's get to bed."

David let go of his shoulder with a little squeeze and Severus followed him without protest. The stairs were a little difficult to climb and he reached a couple of times to steady his 'patient', but they made it upstairs without incident.

Severus was led back to his bed, where he sat down with his shoulders hunched forwards. Silently, but with a moment's hesitation, he put forward his hand with the wand in it. David reached for it, but changed his mind at the last moment. It was the only thing that seemed to make the man before him feel safe. If there was danger from outside (the likelihood of which, he thought, was very low), the protective charms around the property would let him know. And Severus… he could have attacked him right about a million times throughout the day. He would take his chances.

"No, it's fine. Keep it for now."

"Thank you."

"Well, uh, I'll be close if you need anything," David concluded, pointing awkwardly behind him, in spite of the man's gaze, which seemed to be glued to the carpet. "Good night, Severus. See you in the morning."

"Good night."

* * *

The following morning, Severus was up by 6 am again, glad to discover that he had slept through the night without waking once. Nightmares were bound to come sooner or later, he mused as he peered into the wardrobe. Every night without one was a treat. All he could find were Muggle clothes, so he finally decided on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, giving them a few wand taps to shrink them before putting them on. He had become quite thin during the past three months, not that he had much to lose to begin with.

By the time David awoke and stumbled downstairs, Severus had given the previous day's _Prophet_ a throughout read, fed the cat, paid for the new issue (the pile of knuts on the kitchen counter seemed to have been saved for this purpose alone) and made coffee for both of them. He was to be found at the kitchen table, stirring lazily in a mug as he read the _Potions_ section.

"Morning, Severus."

"Professor Slughorn is still Potions Master at Hogwarts; who would have guessed? After the battle, I assumed he'd go under hiding for a couple more years, until things clear out. Also, good morning."

A thin-lipped smile greeted David and he sat facing Severus, making a grab for his coffee mug as soon as he noticed that it was full. Claw, appetite sated for the time being, jumped in his lap and curled up.

Silence set between them as Severus seemed to return to his newspaper and David did his best to wake up. The purring cat wasn't exactly helping.

"I apologise for yesterday evening. It was childish."

His host was clearly taken aback by the soft-spoken words. He gave a weak shrug in reply, electing to take another sip of coffee instead of replying. Severus was watching him with guarded expectancy, though, as if he was waiting for him to argue back.

"It's, uh, fine… as long as you're alright."

For a second, they both looked like they had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but it seemed to do the trick for Severus and he visibly relaxed. David tried to focus on petting the cat in his lap while he waited for the coffee to do its job. Claw seemed pleased, pushing its head into his chin every time he slowed down.

"When did you get it? The cat. It seems fond of you."

"Claw? She came with the house. I guess she lived here with the previous owners, Muggle couple who moved to Scotland; we're in Cornwall, by the way. Probably didn't find her when they left—or she just chose to stay." David peered up at Severus and was surprised to notice that the man had abandoned the _Daily Prophet_ and was listening intently.

"She gave me such a fright first night I was here; nearly cursed her by mistake. Jumped from that cupboard, there," he said, pointing behind Severus. "I even tried that Animagus revealing spell, the one you showed me. It made the wand smoke green and the cat sneeze, so I guess we're fine. But then I was glad to have her here. I'm not, uh, used to houses creaking like this one does. I had the protection charms up and everything, but, uh… Let's just say I blamed every strange noise on her."

Severus snorted.

"Did it help?"

"Oh, yes, immensely."

* * *

After breakfast, they had both retreated into the living-room. Severus continued to read, quieter than ever, while David just pretended to do so, eyes not really moving on the page in front of him.

"Is everything alright?" Severus asked in a measured tone. He'd been staring at younger wizard for the past couple of minutes, but the latter hadn't seemed to notice.

"I was just thinking…"

"A promising start."

Severus' hands clenched involuntarily at the sound of his own voice. These sorts of outbursts had gotten him into trouble many times during the past months. But all his words had managed to elicit from David was a wearisome smile, it seemed.

"Tell me, did you sleep well?"

He nodded, then gave a vague shrug. He hadn't woken up feeling particularly well rested, but then again, one night couldn't make up for months of strain.

"No fever? Coughing?"

He shook his head, watching David stand and walk to him. Before Severus knew what was happening, the young man's hands were on him: left palm laying flat on Severus' forehead while the right had hooked his shoulder, keeping him in place. He felt his heart beating all the way to his throat, but didn't move a muscle. His shallow breathing, if nothing else, must have given away how anxious he felt, because David let go moments after, kneeling by him and looking up apologetically.

"I'm sorry," Severus huffed, clasping his hands together.

David could list eight or nine valid, medical reasons he was concerned for the man's health, but at moment, the fact that he had heard Severus say sorry three times in less that twenty-four hours trumped them all.

"Didn't mean to startle you there. Just checking your temperature."

"I know."

Instead of moving back to his previous spot on the couch, David elected to sit down on the floor, pressing his back against the edge of the coffee table.

"You were running a fever by the time we got here. Coughing a fair lot, laboured breathing... I suspected pneumonia. I'm glad that it, uh, cleared up."

Severus' brow furrowed; he didn't remember anything of the sorts. "Was I?"

"Well, uh, yeah," David murmured, rubbing his neck as he spoke. "You weren't exactly conscious for a good day and a half. I was beginning to worry I got the sleeping draught dosage wrong." David had been checking on Severus every two, three hours just to make sure he was still breathing. "I did use your recipe, though. Hang on—"

There were quite a few items scattered around on the coffee table—books, notebooks, old issues of the _Daily Prophet_ —but David knew exactly what and where everything was, judging by the way he reached behind him without even a glace and extracted the very thing he needed from the pile of stuff. It was a leather bound notebook, rather old and used. He rested it on his knee as he flipped through it, searching.

"Ah, there we are—see?"

Severus was presented with what was undoubtedly his own handwriting in a notebook he didn't remember ever seeing before. He hunched over it so low that his aquiline nose almost touched the yellowed paper. He could even tell which of his pens he had used, going by the ink splatters. He flipped it closed, and ran a hand over the worn cover. _Nicholas David Kingston_ was embossed along the lower right edge. Wordlessly, he gave it back, not sure what to make of it.


	3. Chapter 3

The nightmares started on the third night. Severus struggled and trashed around only to realize that the thing trapping him was nothing other than a blanket, which he had managed to wrap around his lower half. He must have cried out, too, because by the time he was staggering to the bathroom David was awake and following him and pulling his hair away from his face when, with a sudden retch, he vomited last evening's dinner.

David's hand was rubbing his back when Severus coughed the last remnants of his stomach's contents and David's arms held him up when he felt he would crumble into a heap on the floor. David's palm pushed the sweat soaked hair away from his forehead and Severus' head lolled on none other than David's shoulder as he felt himself being picked up. A vague recollection of having been carried like that before surfaced for a moment, only to disintegrate when Severus opened his eyes.

"Would you rather be levitated instead?" he mumbled weakly into David's ear. He didn't know what that meant or where he had heard it before, but hoped David would. The latter froze in place for a split second, then continued his careful descent down the stairs.

The young wizard stretched him on the living room sofa and knelt by it, mumbling under his breath as he looked him over, nimble hands moving from Severus's sallow face to his neck, wrists and chest, probing, looking for the thing that was wrong to set it right.

The same hands stroked his cheeks as David told him that he would be fine, that everything would be fine and that Severus was safe. Severus, who had no other choice than to believe him, pushed his hot face (so painfully hot, his eyes were burning behind his eyelids) into those cold palms.

But the hands soon retreated and a fresh wave of panic surged through him when he understood that David was standing up, ready to leave.

Shakily, he grabbed at the young man's wrist, squeezing and pulling with surprising force. The same cool hands coaxed Severus' fingers into releasing their grasp, then cupped and pressed them to David's cool cheek. The young man was smiling and, having returned to his place on the carpeted floor (he'd promised), rested his head on Severus' thigh. His chalky white fingers were being pressed against David's lips and Severus could remember how each had been crushed only days ago, marveling dazedly at the fact that they were no longer a mangled, broken mess.

David's head weighing down on his thigh and David's lips whispering kind words through his fingers were what finally convinced Severus that it was safe to close his eyes again, that nothing would have changed by the time he reopened them. As he drifted away, his lips moved soundlessly, trying and failing to turn his gratitude into words. He was certain David understood, nonetheless.

* * *

When Severus woke again, a couple hours later, he was indeed alone. A quilt had been thrown over him at some point and he wrapped it around his shoulders as he sat up. He wanted to go away somewhere (anywhere) and he considered shutting himself into the bedroom upstairs, but his legs didn't feel up to the job of carrying him all that way.

The waiting was short-lived, though, as David emerged from the kitchen with two cups of tea. Severus could smell mint. He nodded his thanks as he was handed one.

"So… you're up."

He didn't feel that such a blatant stating of the obvious should be dignified with an answer, so he remained quiet, peering down at his cup of tea.

"Listen, we've been cooped up in here long enough—I don't think it's doing either of us any good. What would you say if we went down to the port? Just a short walk down and back again?" David offered, smiling.

"If you like."

Twenty minutes later they were walking down the steep road that led to the base of the village. There was nobody to be seen at that inhumane hour of the morning. Wrapped in sweaters, Severus in a particularly thick dull grey one, they kept side by side. David could be heard from time to time explaining what was this and that as they passed several brick buildings on their way (post office, the local pub—maybe they could go down one afternoon for dinner, the hotel—not half bad, David had stayed there for two weeks). Severus was only half listening, fists buried deep in the pockets of his trousers.

David's company made him feel a lot safer than if he had been alone, but the young wizard had kept the wand. It was his, after all, and by asking for it Severus felt like he would be overstepping his already uncertain bounds.

An elbow brushed against his arm and Severus blinked, turning his head to look at David, who was smiling. He had spaced out almost entirely.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Severus considered the question, letting out a thoughtful hum. When he spoke, he tried to keep his voice even and steady.

"Is there any possibility of procuring a wand… for me?"

"What happened to your old one?"

"Snapped," Severus replied through gritted teeth. He couldn't repress a shudder.

"What kind of wand was it?"

"Ebony wood, dragon heartstring core and—if I'm not mistaken, ten inches long. Not extremely flexible."

David looked up at the seagulls soaring over them, thinking. Severus had fallen quiet again, trying to push away the nagging feeling that he was asking for more than he deserved—or was likely to get.

"I can try to find you a replacement," David finally settled on, looking unsure. "We can't just walk into Olivander's, though, the two of us…"

"Oh."

"No, it's not like that—" David hurried to add, shaking his head and looking slightly flustered. "It's just that nobody else knows you're, uh, alive. Everyone thinks Nagini killed you, you see, and I don't think that suddenly materializing in Diagon Alley is the best move."

"It was just a snake, for heaven's sake."

"A massive snake and Voldemort's familiar—but never mind that. Point is, I can try to pick up a wand for you, but I don't know if it'll suit. I was thinking of going up to London soon, anyway, so I might as well head out there tomorrow."

"Thank you. Are we in hiding, then?" Now that David mentioned it, Severus remembered that they weren't even connected to the Floo Network.

"Oh, no, we're here for the scenic views," David murmured, grinning. His nose crinkled up at the smell of fish. "If anyone asks, that is. It does look a bit like a postcard, doesn't it?" He nodded at the road ahead of them, which due to its steepness seemed to lead them directly into the sea. Tiny shipping boats were already bobbing up and down the glittering surface from which the sun slowly emerged.

Severus bit back a comment, having to admit (at least to himself) that it looked rather good. He wouldn't mind spending a while longer there, he mused, and closed his eyes as the breeze blew his unkempt hair away from his face.

"How are you travelling to London? Flying?"

"Driving."

Severus raised an eyebrow and David chuckled.

"Muggle village, remember? I'd rather not attract attention to myself by straddling a broom and flying away or, indeed, by not owning a car."

Reaching the base of the slope, they crossed the street and stopped to rest on the stone wall that separated it from the beach.

"What's this place called?"

"Port Isaac."

* * *

The next morning, David left Severus still sleeping. The wizard had requested Dreamless Sleep the evening before, but they had compromised with a vial of the slightly more potent version of Sleeping Draught.

Having come in to check one last time on Severus, whose chest was still rising and falling evenly as he laid curled in bed, David scribbled a short note and left it on the nightstand, pinning it down with a half-empty glass of water: _Gone to London. Be back in the evening._

Many hours later, he was stepping through the front door with multiple shopping bags dangling from each hand, feeling significantly more apprehensive than he cared to admit.

"Severus?"

The man could be found sitting on the living room sofa, two piles of old newspapers on each side of him. He murmured his greetings without looking up, eager to finish the news article he was on before depositing the issue on top of the pile to his left. The latter was significantly taller; he had gone through the majority of old newspapers David had laying around.

"Catching up, are you? Care to help me unpack?"

Severus nodded mutely, eyes lingering on the bags that now occupied an armchair and the coffee table.

There were boxes of sweets (every flavour beans, chocolate frogs and slices of lemon cloud cake, which were hovering a few inches above the container's base) a few books (he spotted a copy of _Poisons and Remedies,_ which he would borrow first time he'd have a chance), a bag of magically enhanced fertilizer and some packets of seeds ("Have I shown you the greenhouse, Severus?") and—

Severus finally got to the long, thin box and picked it up, then glanced at David, who nodded encouragingly. _Ollivander's_ shone in gold lettering on the on the lid, which was hastily removed.

"Ten inches, willow wood and dragon heartstring," the young wizard supplied, as Severus picked it up from its velvet cushioning, looking as if he was testing its fit in his palm. "Mr. Ollivander was actually the one to suggest this one," he continued, matter-of-factly, "after I told him about you."

"You… told him I'm alive?"

"Of course not, just… described you. Pretended I was getting it for a friend who's, uh, unable to pay him a visit. He offered to change it if the fit's not right—I believe you're already familiar with the 'wand chooses the wizard' speech." David shrugged, looking anything but convinced.

Severus gave it a tentative flick, which made it spurt green and silver stars from its tip. He then pointed it at the bookcase.

"Accio _Advanced Potions_."

The book flew into his open left hand, missing David's arm by an inch. Severus sat back down on the sofa, balancing the wand on his bony knees to examine it. An intricate, spider-web like pattern was carved on the handle and he traced it with a finger, thoughtfully. It looked nothing like his previous dark, simple one, but it felt… right, like it would listen to him and him only.

Meanwhile, David was using his own wand to put the rest of the things away. When satisfied that everything was in its place, he walked past the sofa into the hallway, patting an absorbed Severus on the shoulder.

"Thank you."

It was just a chocked whisper, barely audible, but it made David smile all the same, as he made his way to the kitchen to fix them both some dinner.

* * *

He was back—Severus was back in that grimy dungeon. They had him cornered from all sides and all he could do was make himself as small as possible against the brick wall behind him. But something was different this time. His fingers were clasped around something—a wand. The first Death Eater raised theirs, but for once Severus was quicker.

"Extentero!" he bellowed.

There was yelp of pain, followed by a crash, and Severus was kneeling in bed, pointing the wand at a slumped figure on the floor. The events of the previous two days flashed before his eyes, as he scrambled to it and grabbed the still shoulders, giving them a shake. David's head lolled forwards, limp.

"Oh, no… no, no, no, no…"

There was blood oozing, staining the young wizard's t-shirt and Severus tore it away to reveal the cause: two deep cuts across his torso. He pulled David in his lap and started tracing the wounds with the tip of his wand, muttering. When the bleeding stopped, a couple of minutes later, he felt like could cry with relief. He gave him another, lighter shake, but the young man still didn't stir.

"Wake up… please…"

The effort, as well as his own panicked breaths, made Severus' shoulders heave as he half-dragged, half-carried David to the bed. Had he made a mistake? Why wasn't he waking up? With shaky hands, he took his pulse: it was normal.

Using the mattress and bed-frame as support, Severus walked back to the empty half of the bed and collapsed, panting. The room was spinning and he could feel a sharp pain in his chest that intensified with every breath he took. His arms were numb and tingling and unwilling to move. He closed his eyes, trying (and failing) to focus on something else.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus didn't know how long he had lain there with the certainty that he was going to die, but eventually his breathing returned to normal and the pain subsided. With some effort, he managed to turn on his side to look at David; he was still passed out, but his breathing was normal. If he hadn't been wearing the ripped, bloodied t-shirt, he would have seemed to be asleep.

Could he, perhaps, take David to a Muggle hospital, Severus wondered dazedly. How would he do that? He barely had the energy to inch closer to the young wizard, let alone Apparate the two of them miles away. He might end up killing them both, if he attempted it. The second option would be to phone the Muggles in the hospital, but to his knowledge, there wasn't a phone in the house. Would the neighbors have one? They were 10 minutes away by foot. If he could just—

His trail of thought was interrupted by a groan. David opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he tried to focus. He was feeling the back of his head, wincing when his fingers brushed the bump that had formed when he had hit the door.

Severus was holding his breath, watching him.

David raised his head, but then let it fall back on the pillow, looking nauseous.

"Ok, so that's a bad idea," he mumbled. "Do you, uh, mind me staying here for the night?"

"It's your house," Severus pointed out, taken aback by the absurdity of the conversation—or did David want the room for himself? That made more sense. Shakily, he clung to the headboard, raising himself into a sitting position. He was about to hoist himself to his feet, when David made a grab for his forearm; he missed by a couple inches, knuckles colliding with the headboard. The young wizard didn't seem to feel that.

"What're you…? Where're you going?"

"I don't know."

"Can't it wait until morning, then?"

Severus lowered himself back down in bed, resting his hands on his stomach and looking up at the ceiling. This, at least, gave him some time to think. There was only one place he could hope to flee to.

"I don't suppose you know what happened with my house on Spinner's End?"

"No, but we can check, if you like."

David rolled on his stomach, grimacing when the movement seemed to disturb the tender contents of his head. Folding his hands under his chin, he glanced questioningly at Severus.

"I don't know where else I could go." And if that wasn't enough, he didn't even know how much money he had left in his name. He could check his vault at Gringotts, provided he managed to set foot inside and wouldn't be arrested immediately upon arriving in Diagon Alley. Did people still consider him a Death Eater? With more than a hint of disappointment, he had realized that his name was nowhere to be found in the issues of the _Daily Prophet_ of the past months.

"So you've decided to leave?"

"I did attack you an hour ago. For most people, attempted murder is deemed as overstaying one's welcome." His words were followed by a slight sneer, directed at nothing in particular.

"You've been so civil ever since you got here. It's unnerving, really," David chuckled, giving a shake of his head and then immediately regretting it. "You can stay, as indeed you should. But we can continue this in the morning, if you don't mind."

Severus, despite the eye-roll, did not mind and soon they had both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Severus was nested against something warm and a hand was running through his hair, slowly easing him back into consciousness. For a few blissful moments, it was all his senses could pick up. He was thankful. Pushing back any memories of the previous night—not yet, please, no—he inched closer to the warmth; there was no hurry to open his eyes. His head was being guided to rest against something soft and he followed the lead without protest, more malleable than he had ever been in his life. It didn't matter. As long as that arm was across his back, shielding him, and that hand in his hair, dispersing any trace of coherent thought with its kind touches, nothing really mattered.

With a sigh of relief, Severus drifted off again.

* * *

What woke Severus that morning was the sound of the shower in the background and what rid him of the last traces of sleepy haze was the knot of guilt set deep down in his stomach. He wasn't one to cower, despite really wanting to in that particular instance, so he shuffled listlessly out of the bedroom with the wand clutched in his hands.

David gave a start when, a couple of minutes later, he emerged out of the bathroom and found him waiting outside.

"You could've knocked, you know."

"I apologise," Severus said and presented him with the willow wand. "Please."

David gave him a confused look, making no move to take it.

"Please what? Let's have breakfast, c'mon, "he mumbled, turning his back on Severus—most untactful, he knew—and heading downstairs. Maybe if he refused to deal with the problem, it would sort itself out. Breakfast was unusually quiet that morning.

* * *

Severus had fallen into the habit of depositing his wand on the kitchen counter, next to the pile of knuts, every evening before going to bed. He didn't say anything along the lines of why he was doing it and David thought it best not to ask. The nightmares kept getting worse and worse, so much so that David eventually started waking up by 3 a.m. even without hearing the wizard's screams. A few times, he had already slipped into Severus' room when they began.

That particular night, approximately one week after Severus had surrendered his wand, David lay in bed, wide awake and waiting. When he couldn't hear anything coming from the guest bedroom, he took a moment to debate if he should go back to sleep or check up on the man. He was leaning towards insomnia setting in being the cause, rather than Severus finally getting a good night's sleep. Grunting, he dragged himself out of bed.

Unsurprisingly, Severus was not sleeping. Sitting up in bed, he was shuffling through that day's issue of the _Prophet_. He was, once again, disappointed not to find his name anywhere; he had even checked the obituaries. Claw, the cat, was curled in his lap and purring loudly.

"Hello, there."

David shuffled in and sat at the foot of the bed, trying to shake the feeling that he was being positively intrusive. Severus folded the newspaper and crossed his arms, waiting. For the first time, he openly scowled at the young man.

"I, uh, just wanted to see how you were."

"I'm fine. Is that all?" Severus said through gritted teeth. Why this bothered him so much, he couldn't tell. Perhaps it was the feeling of always being under observation, like a child who couldn't be trusted to take care of himself.

"Coffee," David said blankly, noticing the mug on the nightstand. What he couldn't have known was that it was Severus' third cup that night.

"Problem?"

"Yes, a few actually—"

"And obviously your need to assert your medical knowledge is far too great to be contained. Can I hope for a delay until morning?"

David grinned, but it was half-hearted and weak. His fingers were toying with the hem of his faded t-shirt.

"You're sounding more like your old self. I'm not sure if I should be worried or relieved."

"Have you tried _being someplace else_?" Severus muttered, returning to his newspaper, in spite of having read it from cover to cover. Maybe if he ignored him, the young wizard would go away.

David laughed, shaking his head. Claw, woken up by their conversation, jumped to the floor and waddled out of the room without looking back.

"Listen, I know you can't rely on sleeping draught or dreamless sleep, but—"

Severus eyed him with a strange look on his face. When he spoke next, his voice was smooth in a forced way, calculating even.

"And, pray tell, why can't I rely on them?"

Even though he had the distinct feeling that he was walking into a trap, David continued, shrugging his shoulders. "I would imagine you wouldn't want to develop an addiction to them for a second time."

That was enough for Severus. He pushed himself out of bed and in a moment he was by David, hands clutching the young wizard's shoulders; he could feel his fingers dig deep into his flesh and was certain that David did, too. The young man looked up expectantly.

"Why? Why do you know? Nobody is _supposed_ to know!" Severus spat, hands clenched with such force that his own arms were shaking slightly. David didn't even flinch. His hands were limp in his lap— the tip of his wand poking out of his pocket, forgotten.

"Well, I do."

And then the young wizard smirked; Severus had to make us of his entire power of self restraint not to wipe the expression off his face with the back of his hand. Anger, like he had felt only towards a select few, made his blood boil.

"I would offer you a cigarette to calm your nerves, my dear, but I don't think I have any left."

Severus made a sudden move to grab his wand from the nightstand, one hand still clutching David's shoulder, dragging him in the same direction.

"Legil—"

"Don't," David whispered. He grabbed the older wizard's arm and steered it away from himself before the spell could be uttered. There was no reproach in his eyes, just weariness.

Severus released him as if he had been burned. Games, was the first thought that passed through his head, the young stranger was playing games with him.

"You will know in due course, I promise," David continued, standing up. He was a couple inches shorter than Severus, but the latter instinctively took a step back. This was it. He had crossed the line and David would finally show his true colours. Severus was almost excited at the prospect. If David hurt him, then he would at least be certain that he was dealing with an enemy. Things would be so easy. "But you're not poking through my mind tonight."

To his utmost surprise, however, the young wizard headed to the door, his wand still tucked into the pocket of his pajama trousers. Hand hovering over the doorknob, he stopped and turned to look at Severus. The latter had the unpleasant feeling of being measured from head to toe.

"We can go to Spinner's End tomorrow, if you like. Maybe you'll want to bring some stuff over. That's fine. The study downstairs—you can have it. I have no use for it."

Severus found himself nodding mutely.

"And, uh, please stop drinking _that_ at night." He pointed at the coffee mug. "It's bad for you."


	5. Chapter 5

As the morning rolled in, David took his time to shower and dress himself. An ill-tempered Severus Snape was intimidating. An ill-tempered Severus Snape who ran exclusively on caffeine was downright scary. It was well past 9 a.m. when he made his way downstairs. As expected, the older wizard was at the kitchen table, bent over the _Daily Prophet_.

"Good morning. Anything of interest?" David said tentatively, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Not unless you find gossip and Ministry blunders interesting." Severus folded the newspaper and slid it on the table in David's direction, an expression of vague disgust on his face. The young wizard made no move to pick it up. He was watching Severus with guarded eyes, as if he was expecting an outburst at any second.

"You have questions."

"Obviously."

"Go on, then," David said half-heartedly, pulling a chair and sitting down; the scrape of wood on the floor made them both wince. "I'll answer all I can for the time being, but I have some questions of my own."

Severus gave an impatient wave of agreement. At this point, he wanted to know more than he cared to preserve his privacy. Bringing his hands under his chin and leaning forwards, he began:

"You seem to… _know_ me. When and where did we first meet?"

"Roughly three years ago in Headmaster Dumbledore's office. You don't remember this at all?"

Severus' brow creased, while David's expression remained infuriatingly placid. For a split second, Severus' hand itched for his wand again. Why go through all this when he could force his way into the young wizard's head and see for himself?

"No. Under what circumstances was that?"

"As you may have noticed, I'm a mediwizard. My role was to…" David trailed off, humming as he searched for the right words, "keep you functional for long enough to play your part, I guess. I was to treat you whenever you needed it, no questions asked and without delay. For three years, you were my only patient."

Severus felt his jaw tighten. The story was outlandish, to say the least.

"My turn, I suppose." David was eyeing him carefully; he could tell when his words were not believed. "Every since Voldemort returned, have you ever been healed by Madam Pomfrey or any other mediwizard?"

"No, but I must have done it myself. That doesn't prove anything," Severus said, shaking his head. The initial disbelief was replaced by suspicion. "Presuming for a moment that what you're saying is true—"

"Which it is."

"Presuming it is—what made you agree to it?"

"The prospect of erasing a debt. If I kept Headmaster Dumbledore's spy alive throughout the war, it would be paid off. " A smile played at David's lips. "I think we can agree that I've succeeded. Do you have any reason to suspect that you were Obliviated during your, um, stay with the Death Eaters? An accomplished Occlumens like you would probably realize if someone has tampered with their memories."

"No." Severus' answer was accompanied by a swift head shake. "If anything, they wanted to gain access to my memories, which they eventually did." Rather than make him forget, Severus mused, they made him relive the key moments of his betrayal again and again. "How did you find me?"

"I looked."

"Why? Your 'task' would have been completed the moment Voldemort died. "

"Oh, I don't know. To pass the time?" David rolled his eyes at the question; his fingers began drumming on the table. "Or maybe, my dear, I missed your people skills and infectiously optimist outlook on life. One of the world's unsolved mysteries, eh?"

The reply elicited an incredulous sneer from Severus. He remained quiet, though, awaiting the young wizard's question. His hands were twirling the wand nervously. Why hadn't it been taken away yet? He had attached his host two—no, three times, if he counted the attempt to read his mind and yet… Severus couldn't have been difficult to overpower in that state, not that it would have been even necessary as he left his wand in the kitchen every night. The young wizard could have just taken it then.

"You asked me something a few nights ago, something involving being levitated," David pressed on. "Why was that? "

Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line. He could vaguely recall that. He could also recall with a tinge of shame, how he had clung to David that night. He had been convinced for some obscure reason that the young wizard was there to help him, which, in all fairness, turned out to be true. He opened his mouth, then reconsidering, closed it again. He suspected he looked like a fish out of water, which appropriately enough, was rather how he felt. Finally, he whispered, "I'm not sure. I may have heard it somewhere else."

"Ah."

"Do you know what it meant?"

David looked down, suddenly fascinated with the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ issue. "I may have an idea."

"Well?"

"It's really not that important. A bit of a joke, really…"

"You brought it up." Severus' eyes narrowed as he observed a clearly uncomfortable David fidget in his chair. He crossed his arms impatiently. This entire conversation was nonsense as far as he was concerned. Utter hogwash.

"Fine, fine—it was something I asked you once for a bit of a laugh. Thought things were coming back to you. Clearly not."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

And with that, David stood up, the remnants of his already paper-thin patience exhausted. He downed what was left in the mug of coffee and deposited it in the sink. "You're not to use legilimency on me," he suddenly said, though he kept his voice even and free of any accusation."In turn I will try to acquire a pensieve and show you part of my memories. Do we have a deal?"

"No."

"Perfect, knew I could count on you," David replied with a wide, if somewhat forced, grin.

Severus almost smirked.

"Oh, we should head out soon if we're to reach Cokesworth before night time."

* * *

The journey to Cokesworth was, thanfully, largely uneventful despite taking the best part of the day. Severus had been dozing off, curled rather awkwardly in the front passenger seat, hands twined loosely around the seatbelt—David had insisted he fasten it. He only woke once, when they stopped halfway for some lunch, begrudgingly accepting a sandwich (merely to keep him quiet, David suspected).

Spinner's End was a dreary part of already gloomy-looking Cokesworth, a street lined with more or less identical brick houses in various states of decay. David reached over gave and Severus a light shake, driving slowly along the deserted street.

"Witch one is it, then?"

Grunting softly, Severus rubbed his eyes before setting his gaze on the window. A thick fog hung low over the streets and buildings, making advancing exceptionally tedious. Luckily, the street seemed to be deserted.

"Stop here," Severus muttered after what David thought was a small eternity driving along the same scenery. He got out of the car, swaying lightly as he wrapped the coat tighter around himself (yet another Muggle garment pulled out of David's wardrobe; the young wizard seemed to have an endless supply).

David soon followed, throwing furtive glances around. It was… unnaturally quiet.

Severus pulled out his wand and tapped the door, which opened with a creak. Wordlessly, he pushed it and slid inside. David was on his heels, pulling it close behind them.

"So… this is it, eh?"

Severus shot him a look that would have been pointed if not for the evident grogginess, but didn't think it necessary to grace that with an answer. The dark, musty hallway they were in opened on the left side into the sitting room. The staircase that led to the upper floor was on the right.

Still looking a bit unsteady on his feet, Severus headed for the living room, which, David noticed, had three of the four walls lined with books. More books were crammed on the mantelpiece and stacked by the only armchair in the room.

A sofa was right in the centre, angled towards the fireplace. David lowered himself in it, shivering slightly. In spite of accompanying the owner of the house, he felt uninvited to the point where it seemed like he was trespassing. Severus had already stalked into the kitchen, so he let his eyes wonder freely around the room. There was not even a single photo to betray who the resident of the house had been or that said resident could have possibly had family or friends. Then again, this was Severus Snape. David doubted he cared much about keeping or, indeed, displaying photographs.

Feeling suddenly numb, he sprung up and started pacing around, going by every shelf and pulling out books at random to glance at the titles, before placing them back unopened. The majority concerned potion-making, but there were a few history ones—both Magical and Muggle, David was surprised to find—the occasional curse book and, scattered about, some Muggle novels, mainly adventure ones (from Severus' childhood?).

David was startled out of his reverie by clinking of china. He turned swiftly to see Severus placing a tray with a teapot and two cups on the coffee table. Oh, so that was what he had been doing, he thought dimly, approaching the couch and sinking back down again.

Severus poured the tea in the cups and settled in the armchair across. David, who nodded his thanks, was actually starting to get used to the silent treatment, when Severus finally spoke.

"Is there a… limit to the things I can bring back with me?" Severus asked softly.

"What? No—I mean, whatever fits in the trunk," David said, scratching his head. "It's not charmed to hold more than the usual, but I guess it wouldn't be too difficult to expand it, if necessary."

"Right. " Severus paused, looking resolutely at his cup of tea. "I assume I used up my allotted number of questions for today," he finally said, gloomily. He seemed to be actively trying to hold back his usual snide remarks.

David smiled.

"Well, given that we're both tired and not in the best of moods, I would suggest we continue the discussion tomorrow."

* * *

When David insisted on spending the night in the sitting room, Severus saw no reason not to take his former bedroom upstairs. Actually resting, though, was decidedly more difficult. A couple of hours of sleeplessly twisting and turning later, he thrust the covers away and abandoned his old bed altogether. As he was going down the stairs, he was already formulating an excuse for the intrusion—came downstairs for a glass of water—though why he felt the need of it in his own house was beyond him. David was sleeping on the sofa, which he'd stretched into a moderately sized bed by magic, and didn't stir when the other wizard entered the sitting room. He was snoring lightly, sprawled on his back and with a forearm draped over his eyes.

Severus walked through the room to the kitchen, wondering dazedly what it would be like to sleep without having to face the same nightmares every night. He soon returned with a glass of water and eased himself into the armchair across from the sofa. Clasping his hands together and leaning back, he set his eyes on David's chest, watching its rhythmical movements through heavy lashes.

He couldn't make out how long he had been there for (maybe he had even dozed off at some point), but the first thunder made his head snap up and his hands grasp the armrests. What was worse, the soft snoring sound had stopped and David was sitting up, looking at him.

"What the—can't sleep..?"

The young man motioned him closer.

Severus gave an indistinct grunt, but complied with the invitation. He walked to the sofa and curled up on the empty half, facing away from David. A blanket was thrown over him moments later. Severus felt secretly grateful.

* * *

He couldn't breathe. His head was held under water while his arms were being twisted behind him. Once his wrists were secured at the small of his back, they yanked him out by his hair. Of course, simply killing him was no fun; simply letting him drown was too light a punishment. Wands swished through the air and the few gulps of air he had managed to take were caught in his throat. The flesh on his back felt like it was being torn open, which Severus realised, was probably the case. Gritting his teeth, he tried to move away, but two pairs of hands came down on his shoulders and arms, pinning him down. A boot collided heavily with his side and he screwed his eyes shut, panting. They didn't like him this quiet. They wanted him to beg. He had resisted so far. When the first Cruciatus curse hit him and the searing pain started coursing through his veins, relentless, Severus did scream. By the fifth or sixth curse—he had lost count—he was even willing to beg. Not for his life, that much was pointless, but rather to be put out of his misery.

Oh, no, please, no more, no. His hands had been freed and they were clinging to someone, doing what he was supposed to do. Please stop them, oh, no. His name was being called. _They_ never used his name. With a pained gasp, as if resurfacing from under water, he raised his head and opened his eyes.

"It's just us, Severus. We're alone," David was murmuring. The young man was holding him up in a half-sitting position, rocking them both back and forth. "Just a nightmare. It's not real."

Severus pulled away with a start, wrapping his arms around himself instead. Sweat was mixing with tears on his face. He was grateful when, a moment later, David stood up and walked into the kitchen, giving him a few minutes of privacy to compose himself. He wiped at his face, drying it as best as he could with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. His teeth where chattering.

The young wizard returned with a cup of tea, which he handed to him before sitting on the edge of the stretched-out sofa. It had been brewed the Muggle way, method which Severus suspected had been chosen just to give him some time to calm down. Either way, he accepted it without protest and raised it to his face, inhaling the sweet scent of sour cherries and red currant.

Silence soon fell between the two men, broken up only by the sound of rain rapping against the windows. David had climbed back into the sofa-bed and he was slumped against the backrest, eyes set on the ceiling. Severus was hunched over the cup of tea, shoulders quivering ever so often.

"I fear my presence is causing you to lose sleep—in the literal sense, that is," he muttered listlessly, stooping even lower. His face was hidden by a curtain of dark, greasy hair.

David chuckled.

"I've slept less—and worse—while I was looking for you. Compared with the past couple of months, I feel positively refreshed," he said. His voice, while weary, indicated that he was in good spirits.

Severus risked a glance up: the young wizard was still looking at the ceiling, hands playing lazily with the wand. He was also chewing on his lip, as if he wanted to add something more.

"You didn't say _why_ you were looking for me."

"Oh, I don't know, I was trying to make friends. You know, meet new people, broaden my horizons… What better place to expand one's social circle than a Death Eaters' gathering? Imagine my surprise when I bumped into you—couldn't believe my luck…!"

"Alright, that's enough."

David laughed. Even Severus felt a corner of his thin mouth twitch upwards.

"I'm glad you agree."

There were quite a few questions Severus wanted to ask still, all of them bubbling in his throat as they threatened to spill out, but the one he finally settled on was:

"How did you know where to search?"

"I didn't. Just followed the trace of death, corpses and destruction Voldemort's remaining supporters left behind as they retreated. Third time's the charm, they say: you were with the third group I tracked."

Severus' brow furrowed as he stared down into the dark liquid. He took a sip, before continuing.

"But how did you know I was still alive? Everyone else presumes me dead, didn't you say?"

"Well, your body wasn't found, though Harry Potter's story that you had been, uh, finished off by Nagini convinced the majority," David answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"But not you? Was that all you relied on? A hunch?"

This time David hesitated. He closed his eyes and let out a deep, weary breath, before suddenly turning and aiming his wand at the fireplace. Cold, blue, crackling flames erupted, illuminating the room and their faces with their dull light.

"No on both counts. I didn't believe it, but it wasn't mere guesswork either."

It was clear that Severus wanted to know more, but a shake of the head from David convinced him to save the rest of his questions for later. The young wizard then pointed his want at the old radio that lay forgotten on the table and piano music started playing quietly.

Severus, finding his cup empty, deposited it on the floor. Smiling, David patted the seat next to him and he climbed in, settling himself next to the young wizard. The latter's eyes had returned to the ceiling.

"Apologies, but it's too long of a story for tonight."

* * *

Severus must have passed out at some point. He could no longer hear the rain, crackling fire or music, but there were birds chirping outside. Morning light was spilling through the dirty windows. No more dreams had followed, Severus mused, taking in his surroundings. He had moved (or had been moved) during the night, as he was currently curled on the sofa-bed and his head was resting in David's lap. A limp hand was at the nape of his neck and the quiet snoring had resumed. The young wizard was still and asleep, sitting up against the backrest. His head had lolled to the side, red hair obstructing his face from view.

Careful lest he woke the young man, Severus slid away. He took a moment to wrap a blanket around his shoulders, and then slipped into the kitchen. Besides feeling significantly weaker, being so thin meant he was cold almost all the time. A scowl twisted his face for a moment. Careful not to make too much noise, he retrieved a tin can of coffee and a kettle from a cupboard. His own wand was upstairs on the nightstand by his bed, so rather than retrieving it, he set on brewing coffee the Muggle way. His stomach gave a low rumble, but he ignored it. There was no food in the house for obvious reasons and he didn't feel up to going out just yet.

His _Daily Prophet_ subscription had undoubtedly been cancelled at some point because nobody had been there to pay for it, so he nipped into the sitting room and grabbed one of the many books stacked by the armchair, retreating with it back into the kitchen. It was a quarterly journal of potion-making he had procured and started reading sometime before the war.

Half an hour later, David found Severus at the kitchen table, bent over the book. Smiling his greetings, the young wizard poured himself a cup of coffee and joined him. They sipped their drinks in silence for a while, Severus seemingly content just reading and David fighting the urge to return to bed for a couple more hours. The young wizard was the one to initiate conversation, halfheartedly eyeing the refrigerator: it was bound to be empty.

"So, uh, when did get this place?"

"I grew up here. It was my parents' house," Severus replied, turning a page and continuing to read, unbothered.

"Oh." David grinned, going quiet for a few moments. "For some reason, I can't picture you as a child."

"And I can't picture you as an adult."

Severus' lips curled into a smirk. David chuckled, shaking his head.

"Fair enough. I'm hungry. Aren't you?"

"There is a bakery down the street," Severus said, ignoring the question. "Should be open at this hour."

"Thanks." Having downed the rest of his coffee, David abandoned the cup into the sink. "Well, aren't you coming?"

Severus shook his head. His own drink had gotten cold, but he still sipped from it every once in a while, seeming not to mind it.

"Do you want anything, then?"

"No."

David rolled his eyes as he backed out of the room. He had slept in the previous day's clothes, so other than a refreshing charm, there was not much else to do before heading outside.

"Right. See you soon."

* * *

There was music playing when David returned, a short while later. Severus had tidied up the sitting room, made the sofa return to its original size, and was currently gathering books off the shelves that lined the walls and depositing them in a cardboard box.

Carrying two paper bags stuffed with baked goods, David walked by him on the way to the kitchen, grinning when he saw him holding up two books as he tried to decide which one was worth taking.

"Why not both?"

With a shrug, Severus agreed and dumped both volumes in the box before following David. The young wizard was emptying the contents of the bags on three plates. There were muffins and croissants and number of other pastries with various fillings; all in all, too much for two people.

"I couldn't decide what to get and, for that matter, didn't know what _you_ normally eat, so…"

"So you bought everything they had?"

"You're exaggerating," David replied, but he was secretly glad to see him reach for a muffin and give it a tentative sniff before starting to nibble at it. It was proving quite difficult to get the man to eat. He seemed to be surviving solely on tea and coffee, of which he drank numerous cups during the day.

"And I swear they're not poisoned."

"Of course not. Poisons qualify as highly advanced potions."

Severus' shoulders, which had momentarily tensed, relaxed when he head David chuckling. The idea that the young wizard would lash out at him sooner or later still nagged at the back of his mind and he expected it after every comment. The fact that his jabs were always met with amused benevolence just made him want to do it again for some obscure reason.

"You know, we can come back here whenever you want," David began, eyeing the box of things Severus had picked out: a few books and some objects that he could only imagine the use of.

"I would rather not return for… a while," came the quiet response, "if that is alright."


	6. Chapter 6

Severus settled into the promised study downstairs almost immediately upon their return. He had brought back more than just books, David found out as he helped unload the freshly enchanted trunk of his car. The cauldron and various potion-making utensils were the bulk of the luggage, and by the time they were done, the formerly empty room looked more like a laboratory than anything else.

The following day was the first time Severus showed an interest in the plants David grew in the greenhouse. The young wizard had been so concentrated on repotting the Mimbulus Mimbletonia without triggering its defence mechanism and wasting all the Stinksap, that he hadn't even noticed Severus slip in. The sight of him in the doorway made David drop the small spade he had been using with a clunk, which woke the screeching belladonna. Its deafening shrieks had the potential of waking up half the town, if not for the silencing charm around the greenhouse. Severus watched him a few seconds as he fumbled desperately with the dragonhide gloves, an eyebrow raised, before pointing his wand at the plant and murmuring, "Tranquillum." The belladonna lapsed back into sleep just as David slapped the gloves on the nearest table, swearing under his breath. They walked outside into the yard together.

"Yes? What can I do for you?"

"Do I have your _permission_ to brew potions in the study?" Severus asked somewhat tartly, crossing his arms.

"Well, uh, we need to set a proper ventilation system and—"

"Done."

"Cast some Muggle repelling charms on the windows?"

"And done."

"Well, then, in that case," David began, scratching his head, "I suppose you can go right ahead. Use whatever you need from the greenhouse. For the rest, let me know and I'll pop by the apothecary in Diagon Alley."

"Right." Severus turned and took a few steps towards the house, then stopped to throw a glance at David. He opened his mouth to add something, then closed it again, shaking his head, and stalked away.

"See you later, then," David called behind him. Before heading back into the greenhouse, he caught the little dismissive wave Severus gave in reply.

* * *

A list greeted him as soon as next morning, pinned under a mug of coffee on the kitchen table. Severus was nowhere to be seen. David raised the mug to his lips, his eyes scanning the man's neat handwriting: fairly basic ingredients, nothing he wouldn't be able to find in Diagon Alley.

When Severus didn't show up at lunchtime, David gave the study door a couple tentative knocks. A few seconds of silence were followed by an irritated, "Come in."

Severus had three books laid open on the desk; he seemed to be comparing recipes for muscle relaxant potions. He didn't look at the young wizard as he walked in.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"Finishing a study," he said, sounding not at all pleased with the intrusion. "Or endeavoring to, at least."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Left you a list," Severus muttered, pausing over one of the books and turning a page.

"Oh, that. Found it!" David said, pulling it out of the pocket of his jeans and holding it up. Severus didn't as much as glance his way.

"Outstanding work," he said smoothly. "Sorry, did you want anything?"

"Just wondering if you were hungry. Lunch—"

"Later," Severus replied curtly. "Please close the door on your way out."

David had no other choice, but to comply. Severus finally emerged in the evening, took a few bites of food when prompted by the young wizard and then retreated back into the study. When David went to bed, some time after midnight, he was still inside.

Severus stuck to the routine of coming out only at dinnertime for the following week and a half, looking, to David's dismay, paler each time and eating increasingly smaller portions of food.

That evening, after Severus had spent fifteen minutes simply moving the food from one part of the plate to the other and plainly refusing to engage in any sort of conversation, David decided he couldn't let things go on like that anymore. He was about to say something, when Severus stood up abruptly, with the obvious intention of slipping away. But he only managed to take two swayed steps, before his knees gave in. He practically crumbled to the floor, hitting it with a muffled thud. He was vaguely aware of David materialising next to him and turning him on his side as he cast a diagnosis charm.

"You haven't even been drinking water?!" David huffed when the results came in. The man was not only malnourished, but also severely dehydrated. In spite of the angry looks he gave Severus, he gently slipped his arms under him and lifted him from the floor, carrying him all the way to the living-room and easing him on the sofa.

Severus mumbled in protest and tried to sit up, but the simple movement made his vision blurry and he fell back on the cushions. Kneeling on the carpeted floor, David Accio-ed all the necessary things to set up an IV stand and a saline solution drip was fixed to Severus' arm in record time.

"How rudimentary," Severus murmured after a good ten-fifteen minutes, clenching and relaxing his hand. His eyes avoided the young wizard's.

"Behold—he talks," David said bitterly. "I presume you preferred to have choked on a rehydration potion?"

Severus could see David's hands shaking. Was it worry, anger or a mixture of both? He had spent the past few days doing everything in his power to antagonise him. He had snapped at every gesture, no matter how kind, had acted more insufferable with each of his requests (all of which had been fulfilled). David had to have reached his limit by now, but he had rushed to his aid nevertheless, handling him as gently as humanly possible.

"Why do you insist on doing this?" Severus mumbled, slurring his words slightly. "I don't need your help."

"Shut up, Snape!" David's fists went down on the coffee table he was sitting on. "Just… be quiet."

"Seek another source of gratification, will you?" he muttered, scowling up at the young man. "And let me be."

"As if I have a choice, you git!"

As soon as he uttered the words, David's face flushed red with the realisation that he had said entirely too much. His panicked eyes watched Severus as the man sat up, suddenly alert. A hand shot forward and grabbed the front of David's shirt, pulling him so close that the tips of their noses almost touched.

"Explain. Now," he hissed.

"I, uh… I didn't mean—"

"Don't. Lie. To. Me." Severus' black eyes flashed dangerously and his grip tightened. A trap, David realised, and he had fallen into it head-first. He swallowed drily, chest heaving.

"Fine," he eventually huffed, "just—let go…!"

Severus did, shifting to lean against the backrest of the sofa with a grunt. "You have five minutes. Go on."

"Or what?" David muttered. He sat slouched forwards, his arms wrapped around himself and looking like he would be sick at any moment.

"You know what," Severus hissed impatiently. "Why do you _have to_ help me?"

"It was part of the agreement with Headmaster Dumbledore," the young man began slowly. He kept his eyes down, hidden from Severus. "As I said before, my job was to heal you every time you needed it—and I mean _every_ single time. He did… something—I don't really know… A spell to bind us together—or rather to bind me to you… I would know whenever you needed my assistance, he told me, and I agreed. This wasn't supposed to affect you in turn—you didn't even know—entirely one-sided."

David blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his view.

"How does this… manifest itself?" Severus asked, frowning. This new bit of information made him feel hollow for a reason he couldn't quite identify, like a chunk of his soul had been ripped away. His mouth was as dry as sandpaper. "Does it cause you pain?"

David shook his head, smiling bitterly. "It's a compulsion to… to help you. It's all that I can think of. You know what withdrawal feels like—it's kind of like that until I get the job done, getting worse as time passes. Physical pain is debilitating… not something you want to cause to the one who's supposed to heal you. This is… beyond that. My hands are perfectly steady, but my mind…"

Severus hid his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to make sense of the young wizard's words. His initial satisfaction at driving him to tell the truth (the young ones were so easy to manipulate) evaporated. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither knowing what to say to break it.

"Right. I'm going out to smoke a cigarette. Please try to avoid hurting yourself in the meantime—though now that got what you wanted, I don't see why you would."

David stepped out on the porch, closing the door behind him a little more forceful than usual. He put a cigarette between his lips and it ignited almost immediately—the only bit of wandless magic he was capable of doing. He smoked it slowly and was considering lighting a second one, when he heard the door creak open behind him. Severus was soon leaning against the railing next to him, face almost entirely obstructed by a curtain of dark hair.

"May I have one?" he enquired softly and, David though, a bit warily.

"Certainly. Let me light that for you—"

He snapped his fingers and the tip Severus' cigarette caught fire. Nodding his thanks, Severus took a deep drag, closing his eyes as the smoke filled his lungs.

"So that is how you knew to look," he said suddenly, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. "You felt that I wasn't dead."

"Yes."

"I bet you wished that I was. It would have made your life a whole lot easier."

David found himself chuckling at that, though he didn't sound even remotely amused. "The thought did cross my mind, I admit it, but I don't normally want my patients to die. Kind of defeats the purpose of being a mediwizard, don't you think? And, just for the record, I don't harbour any sort of resentment towards you. This wasn't your doing at all."

"How noble of you," Severus said, a small sneer playing at his lips. "Did we use to get along?"

"Well, not at first," David said pensively. "But we got there eventually, I think."

"Ah. Does this bond between us extend to a… mental level?"

"Are you asking if I get any clues about what you're thinking? No, it's purely physical. Psychological distress doesn't register, unless it ends up having physical consequences," David said, shrugging his shoulders. He turned to look at Severus, a small teasing smile on his lips. "As for what is going on in your head, I can only guess."

"Good."

"Will you start eating again, now that we got this out of the way?"

Severus nodded, putting out the cigarette with a disgusted expression. He had never grown to like the taste. "I can't understand how you're not the least bit angry about this. Instead of going forward to practise medicine, you're stuck with me."

David gave him a questioning look. "Hm? Oh, yes, I suppose there's no way you remember that either. But, yeah… nobody's going to hire a former drug addict. This is something you did know while I was treating you. Both you and Dumbledore were aware of my, uh, past habit."

"I see."

"And, besides, you're not that bad. Could've done much worse, I reckon."

"Delighted to hear."

"Anyhow," the young wizard continued, Evanesco-ing what was left of their cigarettes, "dinner?"

"Starving," Severus replied drily, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "Literally."


	7. Chapter 7

Severus continued to lock himself into the study for hours at a time. He did, however, agree to come out for meals whenever David asked him to. He ate dutifully, in spite of looking like he was chewing on plastic instead of food, and, as far as the young wizard could tell, he was getting physically stronger. He also continued to read the _Daily Prophet_ obsessively. More than once, David had walked in on him pacing though the kitchen as early as an hour before it was supposed to be delivered.

What worried David the most, however, was that he had become so quiet that he could successfully pass as a piece of furniture. Again and again had the young wizard tried to draw him into conversation, sometimes just by asking him a billion questions about his work. Severus would always reply (eventually), but seemed determined to use as few words as humanly possible. He had also started locking his bedroom door at night.

That morning, as usual, David found him reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. He cleared his throat when he came in and the man murmured something that may or may not have been a morning greeting.

"Severus."

No answer. David inched closer.

"Severus."

His hair, greasy and unkempt, fell in curtains around his face. His eyes were moving rapidly over the newspaper page.

"Severus!"

Severus gave a start when David's hand squeezed his shoulder. He looked up, genuinely startled for a moment. David took note of the deep, dark circles under his eyes.

"Severus," the young man tried again, "what's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing—nothing's wrong," Severus hurried to reply, shaking his head. His face looked… rigid, as if he was struggling to keep it free of any trace of emotion. His thin frame was trembling.

"You're always a million miles away. You don't speak—never thought I would say this, but I'm actually missing the sarcasm," David said. "And you're waiting for that bloody newspaper like it's the Holy Grail of the wizarding world…!"

Severus clutched his left forearm, wincing at the mere sound of the young wizard's voice. His gaze was lowered and his lips were pressed together tightly, as if to stifle a cry. David suddenly felt like he was scolding a child; his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch.

"Severus, listen to me," David murmured, lowering himself on one knee to avoid towering over him. He cupped his cheek and the man recoiled from the touch, breath catching in his throat, chest heaving. "Severus, I think you're having a panic attack. Can you count to ten for me, please? Come on, one…"

"One," Severus repeated, breathless.

"Two, Severus."

"Two… three… four…"

His lips were blueish, as if he had been left out in the cold for too long, and his eyes were watery and unfocused. "Five… six… seven." His voice sounded pained, but his breathing was becoming even again. "Eight… nine… ten."

Gently, David pried away Severus' hand from his forearm and started massaging it. It remained limp and unmoving. "Does your mark hurt?"

Severus shook his head again, closing his eyes and allowing the young wizard to do whatever he wanted. His determination to resist was slowly seeping away. If there was something he had learned during the past months, it was that fighting back was hardly worth the effort, he thought dimly.

"What's the point?" he mumbled hoarsely, blinking a few times to clear his vision.

"Come again?"

But Severus kept quiet, staring vacantly ahead. The shaking had subsided and he no longer sounded like he was hyperventilating. Cautiously, David's hands rose until they were on the man's shoulders. This time, he didn't pull back. For some reason, his unresponsiveness was more disconcerting than if he had fought back.

"Let me run you a bath, okay?" David suddenly said, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence had passed; the air had acquired a certain heavy quality to it. The offer was strange enough to elicit a reaction from Severus, though, who frowned and looked up at the young wizard. "It'll relax you."

Severus rather doubted it, but had neither the energy nor the willpower to stop him. As soon as David stepped away, Claw the cat jumped in his lap, purring loudly. It was the only being, he thought as he started stroking the shiny fur, whose company he welcomed lately. He didn't allow it to enter his makeshift laboratory, of course, but the cat somehow knew when he was done every evening and followed him upstairs. Night after night, it sat curled at the foot of his bed as Severus sorted through his thoughts, finally bounding onto his chest and purring loudly when it decided that he had done enough, that he should allow himself to sleep. If only it were that easy.

A few minutes passed before David reappeared and led Severus to the upstairs bathroom, a hand hooked around his elbow for support. Inside it was hot, steamy and a sweet smell (not entirely unpleasant) hung in the air. Severus glanced back at David, who at least had the decency to turn around, then stripped and stepped into the tub, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. If he felt any sort of shame or shyness, he didn't show it.

"Should I, uh, go?" David asked, back still turned, as Severus lowered himself gingerly into the warm water. A sigh escaped him, but he simply rested his arms on the edge of the tub and hung his head low.

When he got no answer, David took out his wand and conjured a chair, sitting down heavily. He crossed his arms and leaned back, he too closing his eyes. Things were getting better and now—all of a sudden—they were back to square one. When he opened them again, he found Severus watching him intently.

"Uh, anything I can get you…?"David asked awkwardly, pushing a lock of red hair behind his ear. The man shook his head and his gaze slipped to the side, setting itself on the tile-covered wall.

"Something _is_ wrong with my memories," he finally said. It was barely a whisper, but enough for David, who leaned forward until his elbows rested on his thighs, eager to hear more (despite knowing he was unlikely to understand much).

"There are two main ways to modify one's memory," Severus continued in a low voice. David nodded, all ears; the young man had never had any training in Legilimency or Occlumency. "Nothing can be truly erased: the recollection is either modified—much like painting over an existing picture to… cover it, replace it with something else—or its ties to the conscious mind are severed. Of course, unconsciously the person in question may still access said recollection, though the likelihood of that depends on the level of skill employed by the Legilimens and, of course, on how well it was hidden."

"That does make sense," David said, scratching his head.

"Many thanks for the reassurance; I was beginning to think I was losing my touch," Severus muttered.

David grinned, a wave of relief washing over him. "So what do you think happened with yours?"

Severus lapsed into silence again, but he was obviously considering the question. "I'm unsure, but I think a mixture of both. There are things that look… wrong. It's nothing too obvious, just details… missing in one instance and reappearing the next moment, like…"

"Like a badly edited film?" David supplied.

Severus nodded. "And there are gaps I cannot account for. I've tried to retrieve them, but…"

"Is that what you've been doing all this time?" David asked, wide-eyed. Severus spent his time from morning to dusk in the study. By the sound—and sometimes the smell—of it, he had potions brewing almost constantly. Which meant that during the night— "That's why you haven't been sleeping? You must be exhausted! Three years worth of memories to sort through…!"

Severus shrugged noncommittally, then rested his head back on his forearms. The bath had been a better idea than he had initially given it credit for. The water must have been laced with some sort of muscle relaxant. It wouldn't take him long to fall asleep even while he soaked in, he reckoned.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not at the moment. Err… I appreciate the offer," he muttered, letting one of his thin arms hang over the edge of the tub, fingers almost touching the wet floor. "What did you put in the water?"

David, who looked like he had been expecting the question for a while, shot him a proud grin. "Just Arnica extract mixed with Argan oil—nothing too fancy. Effective though, isn't it?"

Severus closed his eyes again, enjoying the warmth that spread through his body, soothing taut muscles on its way. When, only minutes later, his chin slid down from his arm and hit the water with a splash, he pointed at the bathrobes, which hung on a hook affixed to the door. "Would you mind…?"

David nodded and was soon standing up, holding one of them (the soft, white one) open as Severus stepped out of the tub. He managed to wrap it expertly around the man in spite of keeping his eyes averted, a feat with which Severus was secretly impressed.

"Did you manage to get some rest last night?" David enquired gently as he followed Severus to the guest bedroom. As the man changed, he looked out the windows at the wide yard below, smiling when he saw Claw chasing something through the grass.

"No."

"Funny enough, neither did I. Would you mind, uh…" David turned to find Severus staring at him. "Listen, it worked back in Spinner's End… Maybe we can try to sleep, uh, in the same room? See if it does any good?"

Severus raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You wouldn't be getting much rest."

"Even so," David said and walked up to the man, grasping his wrist in a light hold. Severus, who seemed to have momentarily taken root to the floor, eventually nodded sheepishly.

"My room?"

Another nod followed.

* * *

It was a lot more awkward this time around, David mused, as he laid on his back next to Severus' unnaturally still form. The man was staring at the ceiling, hands clutching the duvet that he had pulled around himself with such force that his knuckles had turned white.

"Severus?"

The man blinked up, then turned his head to look at David. That was the young wizard's cue to continue.

"Isn't there anyone who you'd like to get back in touch with?"

"I… don't know," Severus murmured. He wanted to go back—of course he did—but the possibility of being thrown into Azkaban the moment he set foot into the wizarding world was enough to keep him away. He couldn't take it, not after everything that had happened, being locked in with everyone he had betrayed in order to win the war, which included his captors. His chest would constrict painfully whenever he ventured to even consider the possibility. When David took one of his hands again, uninvited, and started kneading it, Severus welcomed the distraction.

"Anyone you'd trust to keep… well, _you_ a secret?" David pressed on. He suspected the reason Severus read the _Daily Prophet_ with such dedication every day, but the newspaper couldn't possibly provide him with the information he needed. An ally however... "Hm?"

Severus turned on his side, facing David. "There is one person," he said, frowning.

David smiled and, to the man's astonishment, raised Severus' hand to his lips. "Perfect. Let me get in touch first to make sure they're… you know, trustworthy. We can take it from there."

"Would you?" Severus asked, voice rather strained. He could feel David's breath warming his fingers, which was anything but unpleasant. He was almost disappointed when the young man let go.

"Certainly."

Bolder yet, David reached to run a hand through Severus' damp hair and Severus was mortified to find himself leaning into the touch. He squeezed his eyes shut, but was secretly pleased when David took it as an invitation to continue his gentle ministrations. Severus drifted off to what was possibly the deepest sleep he had had in weeks.


	8. Chapter 8

Their shoulders were touching. It was late afternoon, sunlight cascaded golden through the double windows, casting a soft glow around the form of the young man beside him. Severus kept his eyes on his parted lips and on that thin lock of hair that swirled up with each of his breaths. He had slept for hours, uninterrupted, and David… he was still there. He sought Severus' company, Severus didn't understand why, even when he wasn't forced by the magical bond. Was it friendship he offered or was it merely a clever way of securing his own freedom? As long as Severus didn't experience physical pain, David's mind was his own. Did it make a difference? Severus pushed the thoughts at the very back of his consciousness; he could be miserable another time, not at that moment, when everything was so calm and quiet and… right.

Thin, spindly fingers reached to push the hair away, brushing against those soft, warm lips. David sighed in his sleep and shifted. Severus' hand froze for a moment, hovering inches over his cheek, before being hastily pulled away. His other, left one, clutched it to his chest, as if to trap it in place.

His head felt foggy, as if it was full and empty at the same time, and a strange sensation slithered around his heart. This moment of solitude was his alone. David's presence, however faint, was only available to him. Of course, David would wake up and this frail, one-sided connection (if it could be called that) would be broken.

Severus' hand reached again and was met with David's, which guided it to lay flat over his heart. David, awake, was smiling at him. "You're staring."

"I… yes, perhaps I am," Severus allowed quietly. His fingers curled around the fabric of David's t-shirt. For some reason, the young man found it funny; he chuckled. Severus could feel his cheeks flush.

"Feeling any better?"

Severus gave a contemplative hum, then nodded. He really did.

"Good."

David smiled, released Severus' captive hand and scooped him in his arms instead. In all thirty-eight years of his life, Severus never felt his cheeks flush brighter and hotter than at that moment. Closing his eyes—in shame?—he buried his face into the young man's shoulder. By God, he didn't know what he would do when David released him. Obliviate him, maybe? Obliviate them both? David pressed his cheek to Severus' head, inhaling his scent.

"You smell nice."

"Does it come as a surprise?" Severus found himself muttering back, clutching fistfuls of the young man's t-shirt. His weak protest was drowned in the soft, faded fabric.

"Hm? No, not that. You're… cuddlier than before."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Dunno."

"Were we… before… like this…?" Severus was suddenly unable to find his words. They rarely deserted him so. David just hummed pensively. He was stupid, he thought, so stupid to allow this… to allow himself to succumb so easily to kindness—magically made kindness. A young man—the bond between them must have made him act this way, steering his actions, bending his will. It was enough for Severus to feel pain for David to come running. He had switched from one master to another when he had betrayed the Dark Lord and joined to the Order. If there was anyone who knew how it was to cater to someone's every whim, to fulfil every order without question, it was him. And now the roles had reversed and he was this young man's enslaver—it wasn't right.

Hastily, he tore himself away, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his thin, shaky, uselessly frail frame. David's features were tinted with surprise, lips parted questioningly as he looked up at him.

"You don't have to…"

"Don't have to what?" David asked, a hand finding Severus' thigh and snaking across it just to give it a small squeeze. "Sorry, did I go too far?"

Severus shook his head forcefully, but avoided his eyes. It felt so good to have this young man just for himself, to know that whatever happened he would come to his aid. It was almost… almost like being cared for. How dangerous to mistake this for genuine attachment…

"Severus, I didn't mean to startle you," David said, pushing himself up to his knees and closing the distance between them. His hands were or Severus' cheek and neck, but he stubbornly kept his head lowered, curtains of lank hair hiding his eyes from view.

"Would you please talk to me?" David pleaded.

"You don't have to… to be so damn _nice_!" Severus spat, twisting away from the young man. "I understand that the bond forces you to come to my aid, but you don't have to act like you want to—as if…" And Severus looked up again. There was not just anger in his eyes, David noticed. Grief, betrayal, he could read many other things, none of which he had expected to find. Severus stood, staggering towards the wall. He wanted to leave. Get out of there. Hide. Cower. Resurrect Dumbledore and demand an explanation.

"Stop it," the young man said and suddenly he wasn't smiling anymore. "Why are you doing this to yourself? Christ—Severus, again?"

Severus turned to leave, but David was faster—the youth! One moment he had been in bed, staring up at him, and the next he was standing behind Severus, spinning him round by his arm.

"What do you mean by 'again'?" Severus murmured petulantly, avoiding his gaze. He could feel the young man getting frustrated with him. There was a tiny, mean part of him that enjoyed that.

"It's all good at first and then—then you just crawl back into your shell, no explanation, no nothing…! Listen, I know you don't remember a lot of things and that I sound mad—I get it—but, please, just stop this dumb act…!" David was panting, like the effort to keep from screaming the words in his face was too great. "If you want something, just take it."

Severus took a step back, his shoulder hitting the wall. "Wise words coming from a former drug addict, I must say."

"Touché, my dear. "David unwillingly grinned at the words, and ran a hand through his dishevelled red hair. "But you and I are nothing alike. And I rather like that."

"You make absolutely no sense."

"Neither do you."

There was a strange feeling bubbling in Severus' chest; he chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. Nothing made sense and everything was backwards—from his survival to the way the young man acted. This was not how he'd expected the end of the war to unfold: hidden in a house in Cornwall with a youth conditioned to show more interest than deemed healthy in an old, battered, rundown spy.

"To bring this argument to an end," David continued, taking yet another step towards Severus. They were inches apart and Severus' heart was suddenly beating loudly, echoing in his ears. "I enjoy your company quite a lot."

"You must be excruciatingly bored, then," Severus retorted. He tried to inject an ounce of venom in his words, but failed miserably. And David was so close. Oh, God, Severus felt the young man's breath fanning his face.

"Quite right you are." David cupped Severus' face again, thumb brushing boldly against his thin lips. "But you're a breath of fresh air."

"If you need air, you should step outside," Severus replied begrudgingly. He couldn't, however, hide how good the touch felt, unprompted as it was. David seemed to have picked up on that, too, and he pulled Severus in a hug, muttering in his ear, "Very funny." Severus sunk into it, not letting go for a very long time.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"You know, when I offered to get in touch first, I imagined you'd stay back at the house until it was safe to reveal yourself," David complained, huffing as he struggled to keep up with Severus' impossibly long stride. Judging by his liveliness, the latter seemed to have grown five years younger in the short week it had took them to plan this. Well, it had mostly been Severus planning while David argued against it.

"Notoriously deceitful, imagination can be."

Dressed in Muggle clothes, they hurried along the bustling street in broad daylight. Nobody paid them any mind, though. They had Apparated a considerable distance away from their intended destination to avoid tipping off any potential wards that protected it and, after a half-hour long bus ride into Edinburgh, Severus had decided to continue their journey on foot.

Unexpectedly, Severus took a right into a narrow alleyway, his hand shooting behind him and grabbing David's wrist to pull him along. It opened into a wider street, lined right and left with colony houses. The front gardens weren't exactly what David would call tidy, but they abounded in greenery, which greatly softened the appearance of the brick facades.

David moved to step out of the alleyway into the street, but Severus maintained the iron grip on his wrist.

"Well? Is this the place?" he whispered, getting a tiny nod in response.

"Don't move."

Staring right ahead at the street, Severus lowered himself on one knee, taking out his wand and prodding the ground with its tip, all the while murmuring unintelligibly under his breath. He stood up a couple of seconds later, shaky enough to grip David's arm for support, but looking pleased.

"Security wards—I've granted you access," he said when he caught David's questioning look. "Third on the left. Go."

"What? Just like that?! Ring the doorbell and hope for the best?" David hissed; his hand dived inside of his jacket, gripping his wand. Severus rolled his eyes and, without losing much time, gave him a hefty push forwards, making the young man stumble into the street. With an admonishing look over his shoulder, David headed for the house in question.

He climbed the staircase with some apprehension, left hand brushing over the metal railing. The front door was a deep red and, taking a deep breath, he knocked on it three times.

Nothing happened at first. He was about to turn around and go back to Severus, when the door cracked a few inches. A hand shot from within the house and gripped his shoulder. Before he knew what was happening, David had been pulled inside, the door closing behind him with a resounding slam.

"You… how dare you show yourself here?!"

David, who had fallen heavily on the floor, thought it prudent to remain seated. His hand trembled around his wand. "Er, good day to you, too, professor." The words left him before he could stop them and, with a nervous grin on his face, he looked up. Professor Minerva McGonagall was looming over him, looking nothing short of furious.

"Thief!"

"I—I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, professor," he said, eyeing her wand warily.

"Goodness knows what I expected from a Death Eater, but you were his _friend_! Have you no respect for the dead?! Going back to his home and taking whatever caught your fancy?!" Professor McGonagall bellowed on, while David listened with his mouth open in surprise, finally catching on. Somebody had been monitoring the house in Spinner's End, after all. If he didn't fear for his safety, he would have found it endearing.

"I—uh…" he began, feeling the words get caught in his throat. "I wasn't stealing, professor, I swear…! I have something to tell—"

But he was interrupted by a rasping on the door; both their heads snapped towards the source of the sound. When she didn't move towards it, it turned into pounding.

"Professor, please—"

Professor McGonagall flicked her wand at David and he found himself unable to move a muscle. Wide-eyed, he watched her pull the door open and then stagger back, clutching her chest. Severus stepped in swiftly and took hold of her elbows, holding the witch up upright. When Professor McGonagall wrapped her arms around his neck, he froze into place, much like the young man on the floor, evidently taken aback by the warm welcome. Only when she dug her chin into his shoulder and Severus felt warm tears soaking his shirt, did he seem to snap out of it and started patting her awkwardly on the back, at a loss for words.

"It was you… It really was you!"she mumbled, snuffling a little. "B-but how, Severus? You were dead… You-know-who had… your funeral, we were all there…"

"I'll explain everything, but could you please release him first?" Severus said, his voice barely a whisper, and pointed at David. She nodded and snapped her fingers; a moment later David could move again. Propping his weight against the wall behind him for support, the young wizard pushed himself to his feet.

Minerva released Severus from the vise-like hug, then produced a white handkerchief from the pocket of her tartan dressing gown and started dabbing it at her eyes. She allowed him to take her arm instead and leaned against him as they walked into the sitting room. Limping slightly, David followed them closely.


	9. Chapter 9

Severus and Minerva were sat on the old-fashioned settee in the living room, Minerva keeping her back straight and stiff while Severus was hunched over and seemed like he wanted to put as much distance between them as possible. David had opted for the armchair and, having tucked his legs under him and practically curled up around his steaming cup of tea, he looked significantly younger, with the distinct air of a fretful child awaiting chastisement from the two adults in the room. Silence set over them like a heavy blanket as they cradled their cups of tea. Irrational as it was, David found it hard to breathe. A glance at Severus confirmed that he, too, was far from comfortable.

"Oh, I don't think we were formally introduced, young man. I had lost all hope of learning your name," Minerva finally broke the silence and extended an arm over the coffee table towards David, who took a moment to uncoil slightly and place his cup down before shaking her hand.

"David Kingston, professor," he replied, grinning sheepishly. Severus' eyes swept over him and moved to Minerva, dark and infuriatingly unreadable. Hers were still red-rimmed and her lips quivered for a moment in anticipation, but the hand that greeted David was steady.

"We used to call him your shadow, Severus. We only caught glimpses of Mr. Kingston—"

"David, please," he interjected.

"Very well, _of_ _David_ around the castle, always in your company. We thought at first that he may be an apprentice, whom you somehow failed to mention. When Headmaster Dumbledore forbade us to ask you any questions—and expertly dodged them himself— we assumed David was there on his orders instead."

"And you were right," David said, stealing a look at Severus. Behind the curtains of black hair, the older wizard listened keenly, nodding whenever it was expected of him. Revealing to Minerva that he had no recollection of David when she clearly did felt like a bad move. He trusted her more than anyone else, but the trust was by no means complete.

David knew Severus believed his story, at least partly, but having his existence in the man's past validated by professor McGonagall—that was invaluable. It was as close to proof as he could get for the time being. "I would occasionally pop by to assist Severus with… different tasks set by the Headmaster."

"Of course, after his death, we assumed you too were a Death Eater," Minerva continued, grimacing involuntarily. She raised a hand to her lips, as if she had just realised who exactly she was having tea with. Severus was suddenly fascinated by the contents of his cup. A slight tremor ran along his arms to his shoulders. David was sure that if he were to touch his arm, he would find Severus' skin covered in goosebumps.

"I can assure you I was not." The words were spoken lightly, but David rolled up his left sleeve and revealed the bare interior of his forearm. "But I understand why you'd think that. My agreement with Headmaster Dumbledore extended well past… past his demise, I suppose."

Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat nervously. Severus hadn't spoken a word past the softly whispered reassurances that had helped her compose herself. He looked, for lack of a better word, caged. The man, who at times seemed larger than life, who hardly needed more than a scalding, yet softly spoken remark to reduce a class-full of students to silence and—she almost smiled remembering—who had teased her time and time again about the Gryffindor Quidditch team substandard performances, looked like he was trying to make himself as small as possible on the opposite end of the settee.

"Severus, we were so horrible to you when you were assigned headmaster… I've thought so many times what I'd say to you if you were still alive, but now… "

Severus placed his cup on the table carefully, then covered Minerva's hand with his for an instant before retreating again. David averted his eyes with the nagging feeling that he was eavesdropping on a conversation that was too private for him to partake in. But Severus had wanted him there—he hoped he still did. At no point during their planning did he express any wish to visit Minerva alone. David had been secretly relieved that he had one less point to argue upon.

"Your behaviour was… understandable."

"But we should have realised that… that you were in fact protecting us, protecting the students. The detentions with Hagrid. Your refusal to let the Carrows _discipline_ the students themselves the majority of times. It's all so obvious, looking back."

Severus, who had experienced his fair share of remorse, winced at the tone of Minerva's words. He shook his head, perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary, making the curtains of black hair whip him across the face. It strongly reminded her of a stringy teenager with black, intense eyes, who had a penchant for landing himself into detention every couple of weeks—many of which had been with her.

"The smallest suspicion that I wasn't acting on the Dark Lord's direct orders would have put everyone in danger. He would have had me killed and replaced in an instant with disastrous consequences for the rest of you. So…" Severus looked up, an odd expression on his face. "You did well."

"You were smart. You were always so smart and resilient, even as a child," Minerva said with a smile that surprised even herself. "I can see why Headmaster Dumbledore trusted you out of… well, all of us."

Severus smirked and even though Minerva and David knew next to nothing about each other, they would have agreed that he the expression made him look more like his old self than ever before.

"In a sense, one could say that you misplaced sense of justice—so Gryffindor of you—saved us all, Minerva. If it could only win you the House cup, now that your golden boy isn't a student anymore…"

She chuckled and shook her head, trying to look annoyed by the off-hand comment. "I have complete faith in them, Severus."

" _Misguided_ faith, if one is to analyse history."

"And besides, as headmistress I cannot take sides. I should be proud of whichever house brings the cup home next year—even Hufflepuff."

"Sounds dreadful."

"It rather is."

"Would that mean that you are no longer up for bets?" Severus asked, his voice regaining some of its former silky quality. David sniggered, reveling in the fact that neither of them paid him any mind.

"Not officially, Severus. I couldn't possibly…!"

"Couldn't you now? A batch of Pepper-Ups to last you a winter, if Gryffindor win," he tempted, twirling the teacup on the saucer.

"A year's subscription to the _Cambridge Potions Journal_ if Slytherin are awarded the house cup?" Minerva offered, smiling rather mischievously. "And if Ravenclaw win?"

"We drink for dear old Filius' health. A bottle of fiver year old elven wine, saved just for the very event. Has been sitting on my shelf for a while, I must say," Severus murmured, a rather smug grin playing at his lips.

"And if Hufflepuff happen to take it home?"

"You have my permission to drown me in the Hogwarts lake," Severus replied in a deadpan voice. "I do admire your ingenious use of the word 'happen', Minerva."

Minerva laughed again. "Oh, I wouldn't spare you of the opportunity of congratulating Pomona. I'm sure you'd put your heart into it."

"Oh, a heart, certainly, but not _my_ heart. And you're being rather cruel. Chivalry must truly be dead…"

"Severus—have you considered returning to Hogwarts?"

David's head shot up so forcefully that he saw stars for a few moments. Severus just sighed; the flickering, feeble light ignited by their friendly banter was extinguished and he looked more rundown than when David had found him, imprisoned by the last Death Eaters.

"If your first move as headmistress is to hire the Death Eater who murdered the previous headmaster, then please enlighten me as to how you propose to keep your position for longer than fifteen minutes."

"We know the truth—the members of the Order. We know you were loyal to Albus until the very end," she said and, for a moment, looked tearful again. "And Potter—he has worked harder than anyone to clear your name."

Severus snorted. "The Order is small, Minerva. We were few before, but now… how many of us are left? A handful? What about the rest of the world?"

David could see Severus' features grow stonier; the worry lines on his forehead would never be smooth again. Minerva was silent and in her eyes there was something akin to pity.

"Some people," she murmured, voice cracking ever so slightly under the weight of her words, "think that you got just what you deserved when that foul—when You-Know-Who's familiar attached you. Your status is a topic of debate in all corners of Europe."

"Everyone's entitled to an opinion," Severus almost spat, slamming the saucer and cup on the coffee table; David flinched at the sound. " _Reparo_!" he then murmured spitefully, when he noticed that the cup had cracked.

"What happened that night, Severus?"

"I was attacked by the snake, as you so eloquently put it," Severus replied, crossing his arms. "And I was left to die."

"But you didn't."

"I didn't."

"And what then?"

"It was only a matter of time until I was found. I had considered it a misfortune when Death Eaters reached me first, but now I'm not so sure. An Auror might have felt duty bound to finish Nagini's job on the spot."

"Severus, how long…?" It was Minerva's turn to take his hand, but she held onto it even when Severus gave a weak try to pull away. His eyes swept across the room, lingering on David. They young man understood that it was time to depart. He stood up hastily and offered his arm; Severus looked in no state to Apparate on his own.

"Three months," David supplied, as he waited for his invitation to be accepted. Severus stood a few moments later and stumbled towards the young man, missing the coffee table by inches.

"Severus, wait!" the witch called as David's arms closed around Severus' middle.

"Apologies for the intrusion, Minerva," Severus replied softly. His legs felt like they were filled with cotton. If David hadn't been there, he would surely have fallen to the ground. Hell, if David hadn't been there, the Death Eaters would still have him—or maybe he would've been dumped into a cell of the lowest levels of Azkaban. This dreadful alternative had only been a suspicion up until then, but now he was certain that there was no place for him on either side. The thought should have driven him to despair, but a curious numbness spread through his body instead. He had hoped, however unlikely, that he could go back, that his actions would be understood when he surrendered his most treasured recollections to Potter. But faced with the truth, he could only regard it with bitter resignation. It could have been worse, he supposed.

Minerva approached the pair and, to his utmost surprise, raised a hand to stroke Severus cheek. "You do have allies, don't forget."

He could only nod silently to show that he'd heard.

"Goodbye, professor."

And Minerva McGonagall was standing alone in the sitting room, three cups of tea on the coffee table, one of which had cracked in two the moment the men disappeared.

* * *

That evening David dragged Severus to the pub for dinner and Severus got so shamefully drunk that he had to lean against David or else risk breaking a number of bones during the journey back to the house. David had just smiled at his slurring, passing an arm around his waist and leading him up the slippery slope that, by some unfortunate planning accident, had been designated the village's main road.

Before he could tell what was going on around him, he had been eased out of his day clothes and into pajamas, then left to lay down in David's bed. The young man had followed a couple of minutes later, smelling of mint and looking altogether too sober for Severus' liking. He had crawled under the covers and watched Severus intently until the man acquiesced to roll on his side and lean against him again. That uncertain grin that David wore was burnt into his retina long after Severus closed his eyes. He fell into a fitful sleep, being jolted awake every few hours—nightmares, not only of Voldemort and his followers, but now of Aurors, as well, plagued his sleep. By four in the morning he was wide awake and infuriatingly sober once more. David didn't feel him slip away from his hold, nor heard him slither out of the room.

The cat, however, was in the hallway and made a beeline to him, rubbing furiously against Severus' ankles. He scooped it up and its claws dug into his shoulder as he positioned it (rather inexpertly) in his arms. The sensation was oddly calming, dispelling some of the coldness that had taken hold of him. Severus gave it a few scratches behind its ears and the cat purred in response. They settled in the guest bedroom—his bedroom—Severus with his face angled towards the windows that revealed the inky sky outside. Morning light eventually swept in and the cat wriggled out of his hold; Severus grabbed the pillow in a crushing grip instead. He was vaguely aware of someone standing in the doorway, but instead of turning his head to see who it was, he buried his face in the soft material; it smelled clean and promised to hide him from everyone and everything.


End file.
